In the midst of life we are in debt
2002-09-28 || 12:27 p.m.

I wonder if its National Character Assassination day and no-one told me.

When Rebecca was small I used to do this thing if she did not like a dinner where I would make it again a few weeks later but give it a funny name - like Jack's Magic Bean Casserole. I figured that sometimes she was just being fussy and exerting her right to say no. Nine times out of ten the ploy worked and the next time I made the same dinner under a different name she would eat it. This morning Rebecca was taking the piss out of me to make her friends laugh. I hate it when she does that. I feel crap and silly. She was laughing at the food I used to make and how her school friends would always make sick noises and be REALLY rude about it. The way I see it, it is just because vegetarian food is a more subtle experience for the palate than a full on fuck off meat taste.

As to money. BT have fucked up big time. I was about to be cut off - telephone and internet. I wish that if people at call centres don't know what they are doing they would just say so. I don't mind. I don't know jack shit about anything myself either. But when they pretend to do their job and fuck things up for me I feel pissed at them.

I've just been down the town and back and got my bank balance. Now I just have to find all my post, open it and ... fucking hell ... I even bought a cash book!

I don't like this diary anymore. I don't feel like I can write what I feel. I know I'm writing 'oh woe is me this, and woe is me that' but there's other stuff I feel that I cannot write about now. I feel like basically I've been told I've no right to feel the way I do about anything, others do, but I don't and so therefore I have no right to write about it.

Hell, I'm having trouble with this coming to terms with being nothing thing.

And another thing. The Sony CD player was mine. Bollocks. Its only a thing I know. I may make an inventory of all my personal possessions and post it on the internet. A giant give away. No financial offers - you want it, you say so and its yours. I feel another possession crisis coming on.

How can it be that if inside I am nothing, on the outside I make such a big fucking statement with the way I look and the things I like? Is it to compensate for being soulless?

A few weeks back someone said to me that I had the strongest self image of anyone they had ever met. It must be to balance out my complete lack of humanity.

Walking back up from the town I saw a couple with a little girl. The girl was about three and she dropped her teddy bear. The guy with her picked it up and threw it at her. He said something too but I had my headphones in, however he said it with a snarl. She began to cry and reached her hand up to the woman who pulled her arm back and linked arms with the guy.

I hope they are not always like that with her.

Today I have been listening to Rites of Spring. They remind me of The Chameleons.